In her bed that night, Eddie's shirt pulled around her nude body, she ran through Eddie's words to her in the clearing, the words that she felt were almost leading to a kiss, before Dustin stomped in with a bag of frozen potatos to hand off to Eddie. After that, the moment was gone and Chrissy needed to return.

But his words were running through her head all day.

At first, she was inclined to not believe him. He was just saying that to…, well, to what? It's not like he was trying to get in her pants. And they were friends. She wanted to believe him.

The more she thought about it, the more she was talking herself into believing it. Or trying to act like it.

At the very least, she had an epiphany.

Jason saw her in one way and one way only; a damsel in distress. He didn't think of her as someone with thoughts or feelings, and by god, certainly didn't imagine she had any cleverness in her.

But honestly? One does not just magically become the head of the Cheerleading team. Chrissy had fought and plotted and planned to get that role. She'd hung up that version of herself once the title was cinched, believing it was just for one-time use.

But why couldn't it be more?

Why couldn't Chrissy undermine Jason all the while keeping a stupid, placid smile on her face, and he'd just never look past it?

If she was going to be made invisible by her parents, Jason, and what seemed like everyone else in the town, she was going to use it to her advantage. She'd heard the story from Dustin on the walk back to the school grounds about how Nancy had helped Eddie earlier that day. Not only was Chrissy seriously considering sending her a fruit basket, but she was also hoping to emulate the firmness that Nancy had about everything.

If Nancy, another often overlooked girl, could rise up to be the feared and respected senior she was today, why couldn't Chrissy take control of her own life?

She woke bright and early the next morning. She left a message on Jason's answering machine to say that she was going in before everyone else to start catching back up on some school work. She got Cheryl to give her a ride and asked Robin and Nancy to meet her in the cafeteria an hour before class would begin.

She ran her idea, individually, by all three girls. She gave more information to Nancy and Robin, of course, but Cheryl was still a worthwhile addition, someone she could bounce her idea off of and offer some suggestions.

Then, once Chrissy was armed and ready, she walked into the office and asked to see a secretary who handled the scheduling.

Once in there, Chrissy handed a neatly printed list of the classes she wanted to switch into.

The office lady looked over her classes over the brim of her half-glasses.

"It's nearly the end of the year, Ms. Cunningham. Are you sure this is wise?"

"I've thought about it very seriously, Mrs. Riggs. I meant to come in yesterday, but I was just trying to get caught up on my studies." Chrissy said, never letting her wide and almost blank smile leave her face.

The plan; switch into all of Eddie's classes or all the ones she realistically could. She obviously didn't qualify for remedial math, even if she wanted to go into that hour, but most of the rest she could do. It would throw her schedule into a mixing bowl and turn it out all which way when it was done, but Chrissy 'needed a change'. That was part of the idea she would pitch to Mrs. Riggs.

There were two scheduled ladies. From the input of Robin, Nacy, and Cheryl, Chrissy had specifically asked for this one compared to the other cranky Mrs. Fine. Mrs. Riggs had a tendency to have a soft spot if you cried. Chrissy could, in fact, summon tears on command and would if need be.

She needed to switch to Eddie's classes to keep him safe. Jason saw her as a delicate flower. He wouldn't do anything if she were there. He wouldn't do anything to mar her perception of how she saw Jason. He might find a time and place when she wasn't to kick him again, but at least there would be no 'accidental' maiming of fingers in desks, setting of hair on fire in chemistry, or sending in thugs to be able to wash his hand of what happened, having a damn good alibi of another class…all things she wouldn't put past Jason.

But she couldn't say she wanted to change for Eddie. One, the schedule ladies had been at the mercy of more than one love-sick girlfriend or boyfriend begging, and their hearts were not melted by those sorts of tears. Second, for as soft as Mrs. Riggs was, she was still on 'Team Jason' side and would think Chrissy insane if she knew the truth.

So, she'd come up with iron-clad reasons (with the help of her friends) for why she needed to move to this specific class and this specific hour.

Such as; "I realize I start to feel dizzy around noon. I take my medication an hour before, so you understand, right? Science is a class I don't think I should be feeling ill in, no? It would make much more sense to have it after lunch when my body is feeling better."

Or-

"You know, the choir takes a lot of energy. I know it's late in the semester, but I think the safer and healthier option for my recovery would be to switch to the band. I'm sure Mr. Plains would let me play the tambourine or triangle, wouldn't you agree? For my well-being?"

Luckily, they were all so well-thought-out that Mrs. Riggs just sighed and started looking through the class rosters and seeing if these changes could be done.

Halfway through, she paused.

Darn.

Chrissy had hoped she wouldn't notice the one commonality in all these classes…

"Dear, Mr. Munson's in all these hours. I'm not sure I feel comfortable changing you…I'm sure you weren't aware, were you?"

Chrissy bit back a roll of her eyes. Of course, she was aware, that's why she was doing this.

Instead, she just blinked innocently at Mrs. Riggs.

"I did know," She said, hoping she wouldn't have to say more, but Mrs. Riggs' face twisted into a scowl.

So, Chrissy went with something that had been Nancy's idea. She leaned forward, making sure her obnoxiously big Catholic cross necklace was dangling over her shirt. Her family was staunchly Catholic, and she used to be, but she was having some doubts ever since her near-death experience.

She digressed; that was currently neither here nor there.

"God won't give me anything I can't handle," She said piously, kissing her cross. She saw Mrs. Rigg's face soften. Mrs. Riggs was also a devout Catholic, always signing off-pitch at Nancy's church.

They'd tooled with replying some form of 'Well, I'll just have to ignore Eddie' or something similar, but then Robin pointed out there was a chance they'd kick Eddie out of his classes to make way for Chrissy's feelings. And she didn't want to admit any sort of negative opinions about Eddie.

So Jesus it was.

"That he does, dear, of course, he does," Mrs. Riggs agreed, "What wise words. I know you'll graduate strong and God will have put you on that path to peace with what happened."

"I know it, ma'am," Chrissy agreed with a warm smile.

"I'll approve these class changes. You don't worry your head at all about that boy; God will keep you safe."

She'd believed that once. Until he hadn't, and something she was sure literally was from hell had nearly grasped her. But she smiled widely. And maybe put it on a bit too thick at the end, but whatever.

"You're a saint, Mrs. Riggs."

XXX

When Chrissy told Jason, she knew he'd nearly go ballistic. She blamed her parents, doubting that he'd be so bold to confront specifically her father, and tried to seem genuinely upset about the changes. The only authority figure he sort of listened to was her dad, or at least listened when it came to his daughter. Not that her father would have ever demanded such things. She loved Daddy, but he was a pushover at best and a nearly absentee father at worst.

"I'll move with you!" He offered.

"Babe, that's sweet, but you don't want to ruin your chances at a scholarship. Everyone in school loves you, so they'll be sure I'm safe, you know?" She pointed out.

"II just hate it, bunny-bear," He sighed, kissing her head, "That everything comes back to damn Munson. If he hadn't tried to kill you, your father wouldn't have you switching classes."

Chrissy bit her lip, trying to look depressed. She was sure that at this point, Jason could tie anything back to blame on Eddie. Stubbing his toe on a door? He was thinking of Eddie, and that distracted him. His friend was grounded for the weekend? Eddie must have done something. The tornado that ripped through last year? Eddie, probably communing with weather-changing aliens, of course. The Kennedy assasination? Obviously, Eddie, even though he would have been like a year old.

If it wasn't so terrifying, a part of it would be almost funny.

"I'm going to be late. I'll see you at lunch," She said, reaching up to kiss his cheek, trying to hold back her revulsion. Staying the 'perfect girlfriend' to him would be hard when the sight of him made her recoil.

Eddie was not in the first hour, which she didn't think was an unusual occurrence. So she put the time to good use; trying to figure out if Eddie's words yesterday were true.

She opened to the back of one of her notebooks and began making four columns: people that worshipped Jason, people that were on her side (currently, only Cheryl and The Party), people she thought might hate Jason and by proxy would be on her team, and people she couldn't get a good read on.

It certainly passed the time.

By the end of the first hour, she was not yet completely convinced of Eddie's theory but was willing to consider it more seriously. Like, yes, Thomas Delos was the star football star; but heck, you'd never know he was even remotely athletic because Jason got the fame and glory all the time. He probably would like to spit in Jason's face and see him get knocked down a peg.

And the burn-out, Winona Wiley, who sat in the back; Chrissy doubted she liked Jason. She'd gone on many rants on the obsession with masculinity and sports games, something Chrissy always thought a bit extreme…until Jason became the monstrous sort of person Winona always talked about.

Or Oscar Littleton, who Jason beat up for lunch money in middle school all the time, and still continually made demeaning jokes about his high-water pants or smelly lunches. There was no lost love there.

It didn't matter if they were for Chrissy. If they were against Jason, how did the phrase go? The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

She just needed to figure out a way to start assembling them. Jason would not go down easy. He'd go kicking, screaming, and fighting. He'd pull out all his favors, all his love, and turn everyone against Chrissy.

So she needed to know that there were people who, like her and the Party, would like nothing more than to see Jason fail.

It would be a bigger conversation for later, perhaps to plan with Robin or Nancy, but if Eddie didn't show up today, at least she had an activity to get her through her classes.

By the time it took her to get her new books from her locker, reassure Jason she was fine not glued to his side and that she was holding up (and promising she'd come and find him if she felt ill), and navigate to her new classroom, Eddie had apparently stumbled into the school building. He looked like he basically just woke up from how his hair was completely mussed and the fact it seemed he had fallen back asleep on his desk while waiting for class to begin.

Chrissy pressed her books to her chest, shocked about how much he took her breath away, before going up to the teacher.

It really was a testament to how much she loved Eddie. The current personal finance teacher, Dr. Callahan, was one of the worst teachers at Hawkins High. She'd had him for basic econ her freshman year and vowed to do everything in her power to never have him again. He was really old school and probably had a bit of a chip on his shoulder he was forced to teach young dumb kids and not collegiate students, that his doctorate was going to waste. Most of the time he just rambled on and on and you had to hope to catch up with him, as though he forgot there were students in front of him at all. Other times, he zeroed in and asked absurdly weird nonsequitur questions that vaguely had something to do with any sort of economics, and was always wholly upset when students didn't know the answer.

You had to take at least two econ classes to graduate, and usually, they could double as a math credit. Most kids made the mistake and chose him as a freshman, not knowing what they were getting into, and then opted for the nicer Mr. Burkhart for their junior year, as Chrissy had done. Technically, this was one of her extra period classes, since she'd fulfilled her requirements, but apparently, Eddie had not done so when he had been a junior.

Mrs. Riggs had looked at her funny when she'd asked to move to this class, out of all of them. Even most of the staff found Dr. Callahan insufferable. Chrissy had explained that she had not yet taken personal finance, and her near-death experience had reminded her that she needed to live, and part of living was managing the household money of her husband one day. In reality, Chrissy had plans. Plan to go and get a degree and would only be a mother if she wanted to, not because she had to, but Mrs. Riggs didn't need to know all that.

"Excuse me, uhm, Dr. Callahan?" Chrissy said to her teacher as he furiously wrote out the notes on the board, "I just transferred in. Where should I sit?"

Dr. Callahan looked vaguely offended a student would bother him to ask such as silly question as that. He turned, pursing his lips until someone called out.

"She can sit next to me, Mr. Callahan!"

In her obsessing over Eddie, Chrissy hadn't noticed that Nancy was in this class too. There was an open seat next to her.

"Yes, yes, go there," Dr. Callahan muttered, "I'm not going to go easy on you just because you nearly died. Poverty does not go easy on one, young girl."

"Of course, sir. I'll just ask someone else if I'm confused."

Dr. Callahan seemed pleased with that answer. The idea of actually having to give the effort to teach a child seemed far too annoying a task. She sat next to Nancy who gave her a wide, welcoming smile. Eddie was seated near the front of the room, likely very much on purpose, but he was only two rows ahead of her, kittycorner to Nancy's desk.

The bell to begin class rang and Dr. Callhan sharply trumped on Eddie's desk. Eddie startled awake, blinking hard.

"Let's at least attempt to seem engaged, hmm, Mr. Munson?"

Because Chrissy was behind Eddie, there was no reason for him to turn around and notice her there. Apart from Nancy, no one else he interacted with was in this hour.

"You know what they say," Eddie said lazily, leaning back and throwing his legs on the desk, "Third year's the charm."

"If you graduate, sincerely, I will eat my hat." Dr. Callahan stood firm and tall and whacked his pointer to the board.

"Today we start a new unit, our last unit! Budgeting. I know, I know, it certainly seems scary to most of you. It's a big, bold world out there as newly-minted adults, having to navigate all that expendable cash and no idea how to use it. Most kids blow the first paychecks of their college money, not used to holding the possibilities of the world in their hands…"

Chrissy began furiously taking notes as Dr. Callahan began his lecture. It was only when she looked up to make sure she was charting a diagram correctly that she realized Eddie was taking zero notes. But, more than that, Eddie was mouthing Dr. Callhan's lecture, word for word. She realized that he heard it at least two years previously. It did make sense that an old bat like Callahan wouldn't change anything about the way he taught.

It was clear Eddie was putting on a show. He was doing all the hand gestures and facial expressions, and if Callahan noticed, Eddie would surely be given a detention. But that was the glory of Dr. Callahan; he never noticed. An airplane could come crashing through the ceiling and he'd just keep droning on. During Chrissy's freshman year, a girl had gotten a bad nosebleed and tried to interrupt Dr. Callahn to ask to go to the nurse. Even when the entire class had been waving and hollering and trying to get his attention, he'd just kept on pointing and talking. It wasn't until the poor girl had fainted and another teacher saw her laying on the ground, looking like a crime scene, that he was forced to stop. Even then, he had just seemed grumpy about losing his place in his long-winded and purple-prose lesson.

So, really, it was quite funny. Major kudos to Eddie, Chrissy thought, for taking the time to memorize this. He even had the mannerisms down; the way Dr. Callhan licked his lips, the way his finger waved about, the slight twitch in his left eye when he was getting really passionate.

Chrissy let out a small laugh, unable to stop herself, and Eddie stopped immediately, spinning around in his chair. His eyes widened when he saw Chrissy. She gnawed her lip, watching as he squinted, blinked three times, and then fished his little tin of weed out of his bag and sniffed it, as though wondering if he had gotten a bad batch.

When he looked back, tilting his head, Chrissy just waved.

He took out a notebook; a very clean-looking notebook that Chrissy was pretty sure hadn't been cracked once this year and tore out a tiny slip. He gave it to Nancy, who looked pleased as punch to be their delivery pigeon, who slipped it to Chrissy.

Another good thing about Callahan's classes? Most kids got so bored they just used his class as a free nap period, so no one really noticed that Eddie was passing notes to the girl he allegedly tried to kill. There was only one kid that was actively still awake and focused right now, and that was the kid vying for valedictorian who sat right in the front row.

The note read; What are you doing here?

Chrissy wrote back: Learning about personal finance, of course.

When Eddie got that note back, he huffed silently and rolled his eyes. He made a motion with his hands that seemed to say 'no, why are you here. In this class, in this desk.' When she just shrugged with a hopefully doe-eyed innocent expression, he scrawled something on a new sheet of paper.

No, seriously, is this a dream? I mean, my pants are on this time, but c'mon, I must still be asleep.

Chrissy's mind was suddenly invaded with thoughts of Eddie with no pants, but she mustered the strength to reply.

If it's a dream, that would suck. Being stuck in Callahan's lectures is surely a nightmare.

She was glad to get a tiny laugh out of that one.

She tore a piece from her paper and wrote quickly, Jason.

All it took was that one word and Eddie gave a nod of understanding, sharp, angered. It skillfully hid the real reason she had wanted to be in these classes, but well, Jason as an excuse wasn't exactly wrong either.

Will I expect to see you in other classes, then? He and Jason only shared one class.

Just maybe.

Who knows how much more they would have corresponded via messages that Chrissy was very carefully sleeping into her pencil case for safe keeping, had Dr. Callahan not turned around, zeroed in on a target, and then thundered;

"Mister Emerson!" He said, awakening a ginger boy from what looked like a very deep slumber, "How much higher is the rate of a high yield savings account? Not sure? Hmm; bound to fail, all of you!"